 | Songs of Religion and Life |  |
109
The Sabbath Day.
The Sabbath-day, the Sabbath-day,
How softly shines the morn!
How gently from the heathery brae
The fresh hill-breeze is borne!
Sweetly the village bell doth toll,
And thus it seems to say,
Come rest thee, rest thee, weary soul,
On God's dear Sabbath-day!
How softly shines the morn!
How gently from the heathery brae
The fresh hill-breeze is borne!
Sweetly the village bell doth toll,
And thus it seems to say,
Come rest thee, rest thee, weary soul,
On God's dear Sabbath-day!
Swift as the shifting pictures flit
Unscanned, unnoticed by,
To those who in the steam-car sit
And pass with rapid eye;
So flits our life with sweeping haste,
And hath no power to stay;
But God makes man His favoured guest
On each dear Sabbath-day:
Unscanned, unnoticed by,
To those who in the steam-car sit
And pass with rapid eye;
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And hath no power to stay;
But God makes man His favoured guest
On each dear Sabbath-day:
And to high converse doth invite
The soul with tranquil eye
That numbers well, and marks aright
The moments as they fly;
The soul that will not lawless roam,
Nor with blind hurry stray,
But with itself would be at home
On a peaceful Sabbath-day.
The soul with tranquil eye
That numbers well, and marks aright
The moments as they fly;
The soul that will not lawless roam,
Nor with blind hurry stray,
But with itself would be at home
On a peaceful Sabbath-day.
There are who live as in a fair,
The light, the shallow-hearted,
Nor ask or whither bound, or where
They stand, or whence they started;
Aimless they live, and thoughtless fling
Their rattling lives away,
Nor know to poise the brooding wing
On a sober Sabbath-day.
The light, the shallow-hearted,
Nor ask or whither bound, or where
They stand, or whence they started;
Aimless they live, and thoughtless fling
Their rattling lives away,
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On a sober Sabbath-day.
Such judge I not. But me not so
God made for light-winged prattle:
A soldier I, and I must know
Before I fight, my battle.
I with the jingling bells an hour
Would sport, then steal away,
To feel with truth, and plan with power,
On a thoughtful Sabbath-day.
God made for light-winged prattle:
A soldier I, and I must know
Before I fight, my battle.
I with the jingling bells an hour
Would sport, then steal away,
To feel with truth, and plan with power,
On a thoughtful Sabbath-day.
Stern Scottish people, ye redeem
Each seventh day severely;
Sober and grave, with scarce a gleam
Of frolic tempered cheerly.
Light wits deride your thoughtful law,
The tinkling and the gay;
But wisely from deep founts ye draw
Calm strength on the Sabbath-day.
Each seventh day severely;
Sober and grave, with scarce a gleam
Of frolic tempered cheerly.
Light wits deride your thoughtful law,
The tinkling and the gay;
But wisely from deep founts ye draw
Calm strength on the Sabbath-day.
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And safely, if I err, I err,
Who on this day with you
The hot-spurred bustle and the stir
Of dinsome life eschew;
Happy, if through the frequent dark
Of man's tumultuous way,
God in my soul shall light a spark
On His dear Sabbath-day.
Who on this day with you
The hot-spurred bustle and the stir
Of dinsome life eschew;
Happy, if through the frequent dark
Of man's tumultuous way,
God in my soul shall light a spark
On His dear Sabbath-day.
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